


Parental Instincts

by TheHuggamugCafe



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Tumblr request, eventual pregnancy, husband/wife, incubus!Akira
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-15 02:13:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuggamugCafe/pseuds/TheHuggamugCafe
Summary: There was no greater gift than the gift of joy.Except bringing joy into the world; your own little bundle of joy, that is.You want a baby, more than anything.However…There are a few problems.One: Akira is an incubus.Two: incubi are sterile.Three: Akira wants you to be happy.How far will he go to ensure you know what motherhood is like?





	1. I: Heartache

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to selenecrown on Tumblr. Thank you for requesting this. To everyone else, please enjoy.

To be fair, Akira didn’t blame you when you told him that you didn’t buy into the whole “demonic lore bull,” as you’d so eloquently put it to him on occasion. Such occasions came only whenever you felt that he needed to be reminded that, no, you did not believe that he was sterile, and furthermore, that he was unable to naturally procreate with you.

You didn’t believe him when he told you that in order for you, his newlywed wife, to become pregnant, he’d have to shift into the form of a succubus, get a “donation” of sperm from a male, and impregnate you that way.

You refused to believe him and his claims that, yes, some demonic lore was indeed right about incubi.

It would feel wrong if it was another man’s child growing inside you. A child that wasn’t Akira’s baby kicking, moving around, and growing as it was nourished by you while it was still in your womb. In all honesty, though, you were getting desperate for a baby, and although you tried so hard to hide it…

Akira saw how your eyes, your stunning and beautiful eyes, would well up with tears whenever your friends sent you pictures to your phone. Pictures of said friend with a baby in their arms, whether it was theirs or another friend’s child, smiling, beaming with maternal joy, despite their sweaty, exhausted expressions.

Akira would watch as you’d hitch in a slow, shaky breath.

He’d watch as hot moisture trickled down your cheeks, marring your skin with tear stains.

He’d watch as you blubbered a quick “Excuse me” while you set your phone aside, standing to your feet and making a beeline for the bathroom door. Worried, Akira would get up and immediately follow you, rounding a corner just as you entered the bathroom.

The resulting bang of the bathroom door as it was slammed shut echoed throughout the second floor of your recently bought home, followed by the sharp click as the lock was set into place.

However, there was a noise that prevailed over everything else. A noise that dominated your quick footsteps, your heavy breathing, the bathroom door banging shut and being locked as you entered it.

It was the sobs you breathed, the cries that echoed just behind the wooden barrier that separated you and your husband, Akira Kurusu.

It was worse whenever you and Akira ventured outside the house for any length of time, for any reason.

You’d get emotional watching the children screaming, giggling, as they chased and were being chased by their friends at the playground not too far from where you lived.

Your eyes would prick with tears, your watery gaze zeroing in on the happy, smiling mothers and fathers, all who watched their shrieking, rambunctious children with observant and hawkish eyes.

It wasn’t any better when you two were waiting in line at the grocery store. Your healthy complexion would lose a few shades, taking on a horrid ashen tone whenever a baby—sitting in its carrier—would look at you, baby blue eyes, delightfully round cheeks and all, and then…

_The baby would smile at you._

Maybe he’d fidget, throwing his tiny little arms around, clenching his small, fat fists.

Maybe she’d voice a coo, followed by a giggle. Maybe her baby blue gaze would shine with joy.

Once the groceries were scanned and paid for, once you and Akira returned home, and put them away…

It would take him half an hour, sometimes an hour, to calm you down.

Your eyes would well up with fresh tears, your face would take on that shade of cherry red that he usually loved seeing on you, but whenever your face grew flushed as your eyes leaked tears, as you latched on to your husband… You’d cling to Akira like he was a life raft, and you were stranded in the midst of a cold, raging ocean that could very well drown you if help didn’t reach you in the nick of time.

“Darling… I can’t give you one, no matter how much you want one. No matter how much I _want_ to give you one.”

You were sick and tired of seeing your friends’ pictures.

You were sick and tired of your friends looking so damn happy, holding a newborn baby in their arms.

You were happy for them, but…

“…Maybe… If you’re okay with it…”

It wasn’t the same. They’d be able to know what it was like to be pregnant, and you wouldn’t.

Your mind berated you for being so selfish, for being so undeniably jealous of your friends, and of other women. The other women who could enjoy the boons, the frustrations, the natural worries that came with being a mother, and you wouldn’t be able to enjoy neither the positives or the negatives of motherhood.

Yes, you were selfish. Yes, you were envious. Yes, you were angry.

“We could always adopt a child?”

Somewhere, deep down, a part of you, and a very small part at that, disliked Akira for not being able to impregnate you normally.

Still, despite your conflicting emotions, the larger part of you still loved Akira dearly, even if he couldn’t give you a child.

You were starting to believe him. You were starting to believe his claims that, unfortunately, some demon lore was indeed chillingly correct.

“…No, Akira.”

However…

Your mind continued to quietly chastise you, and yet your heart ached. You glanced down, staring down at your arms and the associating hands through the hot moisture that burned your eyes. Your lips quivered as you blinked, allowing fresh tears to trickle down your cheeks.

You would only accept adoption in the worst-case scenario. In the event you weren’t able to birth a child, and yet… Perhaps… Not even then. You desperately wanted a baby of your own. Whether it was a beautiful baby girl, or a bouncing baby boy, you’d be fine. You’d be more than okay with it.

“Sweetheart… I don’t like seeing you like this.”

You hated making Akira worry about you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to adopt a baby?”

You hated the thought of not seeing a baby bump developing.

“Yes, Akira, I’m sure.”

More importantly…

“…Very well.”

You hated the thought of not being able to taste happiness, like other, far more fortunate women could taste the ups and downs of motherhood.

Was it so wrong of you to want to enjoy something as simple as that?


	2. II. Teasing Glimpse of Maternity

“It’s on short notice, but would you and Akira mind babysitting? My dad was just released from the hospital, so I’ll be in the next town over for a week with the rest of my family, looking after him as he recovers from his heart surgery. Don’t worry; it’s not for free. I’ll pay you two once I’m back.”

That was what your friend asked you and Akira one day.

“Oh, shush! We wouldn’t dream of that! We won’t accept a dime from you!” you exclaimed, waving off your friend’s offer with a hand gesture.

Akira couldn’t help himself from smiling, watching as you—barely containing your excitement, he noticed—agreed to look after your friend’s three-month-old daughter for the whole week your friend was away.

That, and he noticed that you took the time to glance at him, your (e/c) irises practically shining with a jovial light as you clutched at his arm, glancing up at him for his approval. He breathed a chuckle as he looped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your crown.

It was times like that when you reminded him of a little girl inside a grandiose toy store, ogling the aisles and aisles of playthings and trinkets, your gaze shimmering with childish glee.

There were indeed playthings and gadgets strewn about the living room, toys appropriate for a three-month-old baby to amuse herself with, including a changing station, a playpen, and a crib. It had taken the three of you less than an hour to set everything in order, making the living room look presentable, and still have enough space to move around safely.

“We’ll be glad to look after your daughter. Be careful on the road, and give your family our best wishes.”

“I will, and thanks again. Seriously, I owe you two for this.”

You and Akira watched as your friend stooped down, stroking her young daughter’s chubby cheek with a finger, speaking to her in a soothing and maternal voice.

“Mommy and Daddy will see you in seven days, alright? Be a good girl for Mr. and Mrs. Kurusu, Natalie,” your friend said, cooing sweetly to her child.

The three-month-old baby voiced a giggle in response to her mother’s words, her baby blue eyes staring up at the woman as she raised a tiny, chubby fist to her mouth, sucking on her fat fingers. Your friend administered a kiss and a calm groom to her daughter’s head before she stood up, pointing her eyes on you and Akira.

“The contact and emergency numbers are in the book with the times Natalie is fed, her nap time, directions to follow, and a week and a half’s worth of supplies is inside the baby bag. Well, I’ll see you three in a week and thanks again, you two!”

You lingered behind a few moments, pointing your (e/c) irises on the fidgeting baby, Natalie, before you followed Akira and your friend out to the foyer of your house, bidding her farewell as she waved goodbye as she got into her car. There was a trio of beeps as the woman honked her horn, disappearing as she turned down a side street.

The front door was shut, the deadbolt and three locks clicked as they were turned, and Akira turned on his heels just in time to be enveloped by a hug. You hummed in content as you nuzzled your face into Akira’s chest, and he laughed as he raised a hand, rubbing your clothed back.

“Thank you, Akira. For agreeing to this,” you said, raising your head and pointing your (e/c) irises up at your husband.

“Whatever makes you happy makes me happy, darling,” Akira said, his lips quirking as a giggle quickly reached his ears.

“What a cheesy answer. I should’ve known you’d say that,” you said, your teeth showing as your lips pulled back, displaying a full-on grin.

“Of course. I aim to please you, my love,” Akira crooned, pressing a second kiss to your forehead.

Suddenly, there was a noise that broke the serenity, the tranquil atmosphere. A cry from the baby, Natalie.

You shared a look with Akira, smiling slightly as he asked, “Are you ready?”

You breathed a sigh, nodding as you said, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

As it turned out, taking care of a baby wasn’t as easy as your friend had made it seem.

That was something you and Akira discovered first-hand, and in no time at all.

_“No, Akira! The water’s too hot! You’ll scald her!”_

_“Are you sure you’re doing it right?”_

_“Yes, I followed the directions to boil milk to the letter.”_

_“Hold it steady, okay? Trip and the contents of this diaper will spill over the floor.”_

_“Seriously, she makes it look so easy! How does she do it?!”_

_“No, you stay in bed, love. I’ll go feed her.”_

By the week’s end, you’d be lying if you said that there wasn’t a part of you that prayed for your friend’s return. When her husband pulled up to the curb, when she got out and shut the passenger door, walking up to the front door, you and Akira were already waiting near the foyer.

“Look, Natalie. Look who it is. It’s Mommy,” you said, stooping down and cooing to the fidgeting baby in her carrier.

The three-month-old infant giggled, waving her tiny arms around as Akira opened the front door.

“Welcome back. How’d everything go?” you asked, blinking as your (e/c) gaze honed on your friend.

“Dad will still need more rest, but the doctor said he’ll be up and grumbling about “the damn neighbourhood kids” in no time,” she explained, laughing as she sheepishly scratched her cheek.

“Hi, Natalie. Did you miss Mommy and Daddy, sweetie?”

The baby squirmed, her blue eyes shining with clear delight as she gave a soft shriek.

“She was no trouble at all,” Akira said, watching as your friend stooped down, her hands taking possession of the baby carrier’s handle.

“Thanks again, you two. You both really helped us out.”

“Anytime,” you began, smiling slightly.

However, what your friend said next caused your smile to falter slightly.

“I’ll pay you both back for this. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

“Now just hold on a minute…!”

“You ready to go, (F/n)?”

A voice spoke, a male’s voice. Obsidian and (e/c) irises flicked a stare at your friend’s husband, watching him as he shut the trunk of the SUV, dusting his hands as he eyeballed (F/n). The late afternoon sun glinted down upon the neighbourhood, painting the horizon above the quartet—and the lone baby—in shades of deep orange, rose pink, and dark amethyst. Accompanying the hues of twilight were the distant twinkling of stars, a sign that the nocturnal hours would soon be approaching within a few short hours.

“Coming, honey. Natalie, say bye-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Kurusu,” (F/n) said, cooing sweetly to her daughter.

For a moment the baby’s shining blue eyes fell on you and Akira, blinking once.

“Ah. I-It’s fine, (F/n). She probably won’t remember us, so-”

A noise cut your stutters off. A giggle. A lighthearted coo. A sound that only an infant could make.

“Aww, see? She does know you two!”

“I… I guess she does,” you said, nodding as you ran a hand up and down your forearm.

Akira’s black-framed glasses glinted as he watched you out the corner of his eye, catching that tiny little detail.

“Hey, so… I’m just curious here, but when are you two having kids?”

“Huh?”

That question caught you off-guard, blinking owlishly as you pointed a (e/c) gaze on your friend and her small family.

“…Is everything alright? I mean, are you two just waiting a while?”

“Y-Yeah. Everything’s okay. We’re… We’re just waiting,” you muttered, dropping your hand to your side.

“…I see.”

(F/n) narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips. Akira knew that look. Despite your meek assurances, he knew that your friend didn’t believe you.

“Well, no harm in waiting. Just let us know, okay? We’ll throw the best baby shower for you!”

“…Thank you,” you said, raising your chin as you forced a smile to curl your lips.

You lingered outside with Akira a little while longer, long enough to bid your friend and her family one last farewell.

 _Just one more. Just one more,_ you quietly promised, always brushing Natalie’s soft hair, stroking her chubby cheek, and allowing the 3-month-old girl to grasp your finger in a small, surprisingly strong grip.

“(Y/n).”

“Hm?”

“At this rate, (F/n) will think you’re trying to hog Natalie.”

“O-Oh, r-right. Sorry.”

(F/n) laughed, shaking her head. “A week wasn’t enough? Trust me, if I need a babysitter, you and Akira are first on my contact list.”

“…”

You said nothing, settling for watching in silence as (F/n) opened the back passenger door, setting the baby carrier on the cushioned seat and strapping it in place, securing Natalie in place before shutting the back passenger door.

“See you, (Y/n). Take care of her, Akira,” (F/n) said, offering you both one last smile.

“I will,” Akira replied, nodding as he slipped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

Finally, you watched as the husband-wife duo entered the car, shutting their respective doors before buckling their seat belts. (F/n) stared out the passenger-side window, raising a hand and waving at the two of you. You made a halfhearted effort to smile, to raise your hand and wave as the SUV pulled away. Your friend’s husband beeped the horn three times as it cruised down the road, finally disappearing around the corner.

The wind whispered by you and Akira, but you paid it no mind. You remained rooted in place, pursing your lips, clutching the hem of your shirt. Your fingers gripped the (f/c) material in tight, white-knuckled fists. You felt a familiar warm moisture pricking at your eyes, but you blinked, refusing to allow tears to spill from your eyes.

_Again…_

Once again you’d have to return to a household that was empty, say for you and Akira.

Once again you’d have to go back into a house that was as cheerless as a graveyard, as far as you were concerned.

Once again you’d have to turn on your heels, and return to a home that did not have a child living in it.

“…(Y/n)?”

Akira’s voice snapped you out of your miserable stupor, blinking as you glanced up at him.

“Yes, Akira?”

“Let’s go inside. It’s almost dinnertime.”

“…Yes, Akira,” you replied, breathing a sigh past your frowning mouth.

You tried to muster up a smile, but you weren’t in the mood to smile at the moment. You turned on your heels, feeling your husband’s arm slipping from around your waist as you walked up the steps, disappearing into the brightly lit interior of the three-storey household.

A pair of obsidian irises watched you as you entered the house, the specs glinting as for a moment, and only a moment, flecks of marigold shone within the warm onyx hue.

_I’ll have to be more direct this time… I don’t like seeing her like this… I have to fix this somehow…_

Akira was determined to set things right.

He was driven to see you smile, to hear your laugh, to see your eyes sparkle with joy, with life.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do if it made you happy.


	3. III. Contemplation

“(Y/n), look.”

“Look at what, Akira?” you asked, blinking as you glanced up from the sink you stood in front of.

Your hands were dunked beneath the water, soap suds floated on the warm surface. You gripped a moist sponge in one hand, and a dinner plate in the other, pausing in the midst of scrubbing off what remained of the curry sauce that caked to the plate.

Akira stood directly behind you. The only warning you received was the clatter of dinner plates being put in the cupboard behind you before you paused, setting the plate in the dish tray, and flicking your hands. Droplets of warm water were cast from your fingers, drying your hands on the apron tied around your waist.

You turned on your heels, blinking as you felt a pair of warm lips pressing against your own. For a moment, and only a moment, you caught your husband raising a hand, cupping your cheek as he raised his free hand.

“Smile, love,” Akira murmured, his lips moving against yours as he talked.

“Wh—?”

You were cut off by two things. The first was Akira pressing his lips to yours.

_Flash._

The second was your husband taking a picture of you and him, your lips gently meshed together.

“W-What are you doing?” you asked, a hint of rose pink colouring your cheeks.

“Cheering up my beautiful wife,” he murmured into your mouth, his lips moving against yours as he talked.

“W-Why?” you asked, mentally wincing at the noticeable stutter that laced your voice.

_Flash._

“Because…”

_Flash._

“I noticed the way you acted…”

_Flash._

“When Natalie was picked up.”

_Flash._

“You looked like someone took your first-born child.”

“I… I don’t _have_ a first-born child. You told me you couldn’t give me one,” you whispered, hitching in a breath as Akira kissed you especially hard after you said that.

__

__

After you spoke that one horrible and painful truth, Akira rested his forehead on yours. For a moment, and only a moment, his warm onyx gaze flashed with a hue of carmine that you recognized all too well. You couldn’t help but swallow a gulp upon seeing the ruby red that swallowed up his obsidian irises; you knew what it meant when that hue shone in his gaze. 

That beautiful shade of crimson that you enjoyed seeing… 

It meant that he was serious. 

“I know, my Treasure. I know,” he murmured, lowering the hand that held the camera. 

However, his other hand remained where it was; still cupping your cheek in a gentle, loving manner. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, actually.” 

You said nothing as you were led over to the dining table. A chair creaked softly as Akira settled into it, wasting little time in setting the camera on the table. The hand that cupped your cheek lowered to your waist, looping an arm around it as his free hand took one of yours, interlocking your fingers together as you were gently guided into sitting on his lap. 

“Akira, what are you doing— _mph_.” 

Once again, you were cut off by Akira’s lips pressing to yours, swallowing the gasp you voiced as he kept you close, so close that your breasts pressed against his torso. So close that you swore you felt his heart beating as he raised a hand, looping an arm around your shoulders, bringing you even closer, if such a thing was possible. 

“As I said,” Akira paused, pressing his lips against yours. “I’m cheering you up, my love.” 

You didn’t say anything. You could only voice an appreciative “ _hm_ ” as Akira held you, kissed you, and ran his hand up and down your clothed back. For a few minutes, that was where you remained: on Akira’s lap. You allowed yourself to be showered in the affection Akira gave you so willingly, reciprocating as much as you could. 

You practically clung to him as your slightly plump lips meshed with his, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, trying to bring him closer to you. You were sure you couldn’t get any more closer to him than you already were, though it didn’t deter you from trying. 

Finally, Akira leaned back, disconnecting from your lips with a moist pop. Small strings of spit linked your mouth to his, glistening underneath the kitchen’s fluorescent lighting. Short, ragged pants left you as Akira’s carmine gaze remained on you. 

“T-Thank you, Akira,” you spoke at last, your voice no higher than the octave of a whisper. 

“No, thank _you_ , dear.” 

“What?” 

“As I said,” Akira paused, a hand still cupping your cheek. He quietly rejoiced in how warm it felt in the palm of his hand, the cherry red tint gracing his fingers. 

“I’m cheering you up. You are my wife, aren’t you?” 

“…” 

Once again, you couldn’t say anything. You settled for staring into Akira’s face, his eyes more specifically. The crimson hue was still there, still glinting as he eyed you in what you could only describe as quiet contemplation. 

“Do you want a child?” 

“Y-Yes,” you replied, blinking as you ignored the light, noticeable waver that was in your voice as you talked. 

“How badly do you want a baby?” 

For a few moments, you were silent as your teeth nibbled into the lightly plump flesh of of your lower lip. Several thoughts ran through your head, each more befuddling than the previous one. 

_What an odd question for him to ask, and so suddenly._

_Why is he asking me this so… out of the blue?_

_What’s he planning?_

_Wait, could he be…?_

You had your suspicions, of course. Akira wasn’t stupid; he could read you better than anyone else could. Whether they were family members, friends, or acquaintances, the frizzy-haired demon picked up on the silent cues that hinted at your feelings. It didn’t matter if you were nervous, confused, agitated, or sad, it didn’t matter if you wore a poker face, or feigned content behind a smile and a laugh… 

Akira picked up on everything, _everything_ , that bothered you or lifted your spirits. 

“…Akira,” you began, slowly and carefully uttering his name. “Are you…?” 

“Answer me, love. Please.” 

You swallowed a gulp that you swore was the size of a tennis ball, feeling it run down your esophagus as it settled into your gut, where it squirmed in a quiet ball of anxiety, of doubt. Your teeth bit into the flesh of your lower lip, slightly harder. 

You wanted to look away from Akira’s ruby red gaze, but the hand cupping your cheek prevented you from doing so, whereas his free hand slowly, soothingly rubbed circles into your lower back through the shirt you wore. 

“I… I…” 

You did want a baby. You wanted a child so, so badly. You would do anything to hear the words that your friends had heard from a doctor, congratulating you and Akira for expecting a baby. 

_“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Kurusu. You’re expecting.”_

You wanted to hear those words, more than anything. 

Or rather… 

You _thought_ you did, anyway. 

Were you really so selfish, so desperate as to ask Akira to do such a thing…? 

Were you really that despicable as to expect him to secure a “donation” and impregnate you…? 

Were you honestly, truly going to ask Akira to do this, to do it for you…? 

A part of you, deep down inside your subconscious, rejoiced in Akira’s offer, but the large part of you chastised that other, smaller part of you that wanted to say “yes” to what Akira was proposing. 

Your mouth felt dry, but your heart raced within the bony confines of your rib cage, beating like the wings of a hummingbird, flapping frantically. You swallowed what felt like a mouthful of saliva, breathing in slowly, hitching slightly as you forced a smile to curl your lips. 

“Can I… Can I think about this, please?” 

If Akira was surprised at what you said, he certainly didn’t show it. The rose red colour still remained, his irises still glinted with that shade that was reminiscent of hellfire itself, piercing, demanding your attention. The noiret’s visage was expressionless; no emotions could be read on his face, in his eyes. 

Finally, Akira smiled softly as he nodded, leaning forward to gently peck your lips. 

“Of course. Take as long as you need to, my Treasure.” 

“Thank you, Akira.” 

You meant it. You honestly, truly meant it, and he no doubt saw it. 

Akira doubtlessly saw your gratitude in your eyes, the edges pricking with hot moisture as the hand that was cupping your cheek raised to your eyes, wiping away the tears that tried to trickle down your cheeks. 

You had no doubt he saw it in the way your smile curled your lips, pulling to show a teasing hint of pearly whites. 

He no doubt felt your thanks as your arms curled around him, hugging him with a bit more force than you usually did. 

“Excuse me, darling,” you murmured, slowly sliding off of Akira’s lap. 

However, you were tugged back into a kiss, a lingering, affectionate lip-lock before Akira pulled away. 

Your husband’s arms slid down, slid off of you as you walked away, and you felt his eyes honed on your retreating figure as you left the kitchen. You walked down the short hallway, taking a sharp right as you thump-thumped up the stairs. 

You wasted little time in entering the bathroom, flipping on the light before the mahogany door was shut, followed by the telltale click as the lock was gripped and turned, effectively locking you in the bathroom. You shuffled over to the bathtub, sitting down on its porcelain edge. 

You ran your clammy, sweaty palms over the jeans that covered your legs, drawing in a slow, shaky breath as a familiar wetness pricked at your eyes. Soon, your vision was distorted with hot moisture, moisture that soon trickled down your cheeks. A tight feeling ensnared you as your heart raced wildly, breathing one sob after another. 

“I’m such a horrible wife,” you muttered bitterly, a matching smile curling your lips. 


End file.
